


symptoms of sleep deprivation include

by cancerthecrabbo



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Andy is a Good Friend, Comedy, Cute, Exhaustion, F/M, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Light-Hearted, Napping, Sleep Deprivation, Sleepiness, Sleepwalking, but it's cute, he came in clutch, i don't actually like babies this much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 13:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16556999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cancerthecrabbo/pseuds/cancerthecrabbo
Summary: "Dunder Mifflin is a place of paper and business; paper business.  It isn’t rare that odd things occur, given the employees and the nature of the CEO.  But one of the few people that have never come into the office looking anything other than business-appropriate is Jim.  Until today."alternatively: Is Jim sleep-deprived, drunk, or a zombie?





	symptoms of sleep deprivation include

**Author's Note:**

> i drank 2 cups of coffee in the span of 2 hours today and for some reason, I completely bypassed the jitters. am i going to die?

Dunder Mifflin is a place of paper and business; _paper business_.  It isn’t rare that odd things occur, given the employees and the nature of the CEO.  But one of the few people that have never come into the office looking anything other than business-appropriate is Jim.  Until today.

 

It’s odd enough when the clock strikes 9:30 and Jim isn’t anywhere to be seen.  Otherwise, the office isn’t overly disrupted.  At 10:15, things begin to go awry.

 

The door to the office opens wildly, making the doorstop on the wall vibrate loudly.  Erin watches as Jim walks into the office, eyes half closed, tie loose and crooked, and face unshaven.  The stubble makes the bags under his eyes seem more pronounced as he blindly shuffles towards his desk. 

 

Erin calls his name, attracting even more attention.  “Jim?”

 

“Shh,” he responds, eyes still closed and feeling for his chair, “I got it.  Don’ get up.”  He whispers in Erin’s general direction.  Finally, his hand brushes his chair and he grips it, pulling it out noisily.  Jim has never been especially graceful, what with his height, but this time he truly plops into his chair.  Andy, having been observing from his office, comes out as Jim scoots his chair into his desk.  His eyes are no longer open at all. 

 

“What’s wrong with you?”  Dwight asks loudly.  His expression is one of disdain.  “Are you sick?  Contagious?”  Jim finally seems to wake up, at least enough to wrestle his coat off and drape it on his chair.  Andy shushes Dwight.

 

“Jim, buddy, did you sleep at all last night?”  Andy leans over to try and make eye contact but Jim seems determined to open something on his desktop.  His mouse clicks several times, highlighting folders, but never lands on anything long enough.  “Or is this some sort of drug situation?”

 

“Promised Pam one _full_ night of sleep.”

 

At this, Phyllis goes _aww_ , and says, “He must have taken care of Cece and Philip all night.  You know, that’s why Bob got a vasectomy – so we can stay up all night without kids.”  Groans follow her words, the information being too much at the early hour. 

 

“You know what, I doubt Jim parked his car in the right place.  I’m gonna go make sure it doesn’t get towed.”  Andy rushes out of the office.  (Downstairs, he walks out of the elevator and sees Hank staring at the car parked directly outside the doors of the building.)

 

Even the chorus of disgust doesn’t rouse Jim.  He seems to be determined to work despite the drowsiness and complete lack of sleep.  Jim reaches for his phone and mashes some of the buttons.  Before anyone can stop him, Jim starts muttering something incomprehensible into the receiver.  Gradually his head starts to bob and sink down further until he’s lying completely limp on his desk, face squished into the keyboard. 

 

Oscar sighs.  “Jesus.  Erin, who was he calling?” 

 

“Oh!  Let me just…”  Erin struggles with the buttons for a moment before successfully transferring the call to her phone.  She listens, the office completely silent, waiting to hear the client they just lost.  “Um, no one.  He didn’t actually call a phone number.”  A collective sigh of a relief follows.

 

* * *

 

Andy enters the office quietly and is glad to see no one has woken Jim up.  He just wishes they were working and not carefully stacking various office supplies on the sleeping man's neck.  It’s impressive but incredibly unproductive.  He decides to remedy this.

 

“Guys,” he whispers, “Stop.  I’m gonna put him in the conference room so that everyone can go back to work.”

 

Kevin pulls a frown and groans.  “We were gonna see if Ryan’s weird nipple bottle would balance on Jim!”  His whisper-shouting causes Jim to shift, knocking the sticky pad, four pencils, 5 pens, and balled-up paper off of him.

 

“It’s not _weird_.  It’s an innovative way to drink water that brings me back to my days in the womb.” 

 

“Okay, no, Ryan, it’s bizarre.  It’s very weird.  Please get rid of it.  Anyway, Jim is incapacitated for now, but if he actually wakes up…I don’t want to face him,” Andy admits. 

 

Angela scoffs.  “You’re the manager, Andy.”  The rest of the office gives murmurs of agreement.

 

“And you have the right to kill him if he beats you half to death, you know,” Creed says. 

 

“You don’t understand,” he says, ignoring Creed, “Jim is _tall_ and _unshaved_ , and he looks like he could pull an ax out of his pants and hack me up into pieces if I make him angry.  Now go back to work.”  Andy’s fear is irrational, but the stubble on Jim’s face does make him look different.  His normally levelheaded and unruffled presence is somewhat undermined by the dark five o-clock shadow making the line of his jaw harsher.  Combined with his height, it is understandable that Andy doesn’t want to be met with a sleep-deprived and potentially angry Jim.  However, the combined glares of the entire office convince him well enough.  “Fine, fine!  I’ll take one for the team and wake him up.  Erin, can you grab all of the blankets and pillows from my office?”

 

“On it!”

 

Andy leans in close and shakes Jim’s shoulder.  A low and nearly inaudible noise comes from Jim.  Another shake, harder this time, prompts a louder and more bear-like noise.  Andy pales and looks around for support – he finds none.  Behind them, Erin struggles with the multitude of blankets spilling from her arms.  Andy calls Jim’s name and slaps him lightly; three quick taps on his face seem to be the trick.  He pulls his head up with a sudden sniff and starts hitting random keys on his keyboard. 

 

“Uh…conference room meeting!  C’mon Jim, let’s go in the conference room.”  Andy then grabs Jim by his arms and attempts to pull him up. 

“Whass i’ ‘bout?”  Jim is incomprehensible at this point, so Andy just nods and hums in agreement.  It’s enough to placate him, so he stands and begins the journey into the conference room.  Andy steers him carefully, hyper-aware of the fact that Jim’s eyes are shut and that Pam would punch him if he accidentally ran her husband into a wall.  Erin follows along with her upper body partially buried in pillows and blankets.

 

Once the three of them make it into the conference room, the rest of the office no longer has an excuse to stop working, and a low murmur of activity starts up again.  Andy directs Erin to the far wall and tells her to make a blanket bed with extra lumbar support and enough pillows to counteract the hard floor.  While she sets it up, Andy slowly turns Jim so that they face each other.

 

They wait for a moment in silence.  “Please don’t ever come into work all weird ever again.  It feels like an episode of The Twilight Zone, and you know how much that show scares me.”

 

Jim starts leaning forward, head lolling forward and his entire 6’3” body threatening to squish Andy.  “Sorry.” 

 

“Alright, alright!  Erin, is it ready?”  Andy leans his entire weight against Jim which unfortunately makes him tip the other way.  The only thing that saves them both from toppling over is Erin’s confirmation and near-sacrifice.  She props Jim up while Andy wraps his arms around Jim’s left bicep.  “Get his other arm and we’ll lower him down slowly.”

 

Jim’s head hangs as they lower him down like a human drawbridge.  The pillows are fluffy and he sinks into them perfectly, his spine curved as naturally as possible and neck supported.  His eyes close instantly and a light snoring starts up. 

 

Meanwhile, Andy is petrified.  As he was crouching down, he’d seen a very familiar car, one too expensive to be the vehicle if a mere employee of Dunder Mifflin.  As he straightens up, Andy realizes that it’s Robert California’s car.

 

With Erin in tow, he runs out of the conference room with a half-baked plan forming in his mind.  “Party committee, assemble and grab a crap top of food from the break room!  He’s coming.”

 

The chatter ends immediately.  Andy usually doesn’t say nonsensical things like that, Michael was much more prone to that, but he really outdid himself this time.  Stanley goes back to his crossword puzzle immediately.

 

Dwight is decidedly uninterested in the situation.  He’s delighted that Jim is exhausted and looks like crap, but that doesn’t count toward much if Andy keeps interrupting him.  “Who the hell are you talking about?”  

 

“We don’t have any food, Andy, there’s no party,” Phyllis says.  She stands anyway.  “I did bring a big lunch, though.”

 

Nodding, Andy seems to make up his mind.  “Yeah, that should be enough.  Oh, and get the tablecloths.  I’m gonna go intercept Robert.  Someone pull Jim’s incredibly comfortable blanket bed under the table!”

 

* * *

 

With the friction of the blankets against the carpeted floor, it takes 5 minutes to slide Jim under the table.  He remains asleep for the entirety of Ryan, Meredith, Kelly, and Erin pushing and pulling.  It takes at least twice as long as it needed to because of Erin’s insistence that they keep the pillows and blanket bunches exactly where they are to properly support Jim’s beanstalk body type.  While they are making sure Jim doesn’t wake up with a crick in his neck or a twinge in his lower back, the Party Committee gathers the improvised lunch onto the table and makes a respectable spread.  Phyllis’s lunch consists of a generous Caesar salad, a banana, a turkey BLT sandwich, and some homemade tiny donuts. 

 

“Bob packed it for me today,” she gushes, “He’s so romantic.”  To be honest, the tiny donuts do make Bob seem like a desirable spouse, but only slightly.

 

The makeshift spread looks pretty good for their situation, and from Robert’s perspective, the mismatched velvet tablecloth and disposable bowls could be explained away with budget issues.  Jim stopped snoring when he had been moved and the tablecloth reaches the floor, so the conference room appeared perfectly normal.  The entire operation only took 3 minutes to execute and Andy’s stalling lasted enough to give them 2 minutes of spare time. 

 

* * *

 

Robert and Andy enter loudly, courtesy of Andy's high volume.  The call of shenanigans had gathered the entire office at the promise of at least an hour to avoid work.  Between Robert’s off-putting demeanor and sitting at a desk, no one was going to pick the latter.

 

“Right this way, Robert, we’ve got a little par-tay going on.  Just for you, actually, so why don’t we all stay in here, eat, and make lots of eye contact?”  Andy steers Robert into the conference room where everyone else had dug into the lunch.

 

“Andrew, you didn’t need to go to these lengths for a simple check-in.  Such a large spread…this can feed the entire office.”  Robert grabs a plate and a tiny donut despite his words.

 

It goes well for another 5 minutes.  Then, the snoring starts again – but that’s not the problem.  It’s the fact that the snoring stops suddenly and a small grunt comes from underneath the table.  It’s faint and Robert didn’t notice it, but Andy has realized that keeping Jim and Robert in the same room is not the best idea.  

 

“Rob, hey, I need to grab something from my office.  Do you mind coming with me?”

 

“Is it a particularly heavy item?”

 

“Uh- sure?  Just- it’s in my office, just come with me.”  Andy beckons Robert out of the conference room, purposefully keeping his intentions vague, as he had no idea what to grab from his office.

 

Seconds after they enter Andy’s office, Jim rolls out slowly from under the table.  His shirt is rumpled and he’s even paler than before.  There are bags under his bloodshot, droopy eyes; the respective purple and red are vivid enough to instill sympathy in even Angela.  As it were, Kevin, Ryan, and Phyllis take it upon themselves to guide him to the kitchen.  Really, it’s more like they follow him with an occasional nudge in the right direction.

 

Jim paws the door open on his own with eyes closed yet again and steps shuffling like a zombie.  With his back turned to them, the huge cowlick making most of his hair stick up in the back is revealed and incredibly hilarious.  Once the door closes behind them, Jim stands confused in the middle of the passageway for a beat.  Instinct apparently takes over, compelling Jim to open the fridge for some reason.

 

“What- what is he doing?”  Kevin starts to panic as Jim rifles through the food.  He pulls Kevin’s huge baby-sized hoagie out of the fridge and tucks it against his side and goes back for something else.

 

“Oh, no, no, no, not my nipple bottle!”  Even Ryan’s yell isn’t enough to startle Jim out of his stupor.  He lets the fridge door close.

 

Jim shifts the hoagie to cradle it in the crook of his arm and squeezes a couple of drops of water onto his wrist.  Phyllis can’t help but smile as Jim starts to “feed” the hoagie. 

 

“Oh, this is adorable.  I’ll go get Oscar so he can take a video!”

 

Jim starts to hum and walk around the kitchen.  It’s odd enough to stop Kevin and Ryan from tearing him away from his fake sandwich baby.  Dwight enters, scoffing, alongside Oscar, Phyllis, and Erin.  The doorway starts to clog up until Jim makes his way to the Annex.  Oscar, in a fit of curiosity, opens the door and watches as Jim bounces slowly into the room.

 

“This is weird, but also…cute?”  Oscar shrugs at the others.  He’s forced to follow along as Phyllis and Erin steal his phone to take video.  Phyllis coos when Jim’s mumbling hums turns into slightly clearer singing.  He shushes the hoagie lovingly and sets down Ryan’s nipple bottle on the edge of a table.

 

In Jim’s exhaustion-fueled delirium, his baby apparently is full and satisfied, so he sits on the nearest office chair.  He lays the sandwich on his chest and brings up a hand to rest on what he might think is the back of the fake baby’s head.  Jim leans his head back on the chair.  His breathing slows steadily.

 

Oscar grabs his phone from Erin's hand.  “Alright, alright, Phyllis, isn’t that enough?  We should call Pam.  Jim is obviously sleep-deprived and he needs rest and to _not_ get fired.”  

 

“Fine,” Phyllis says. 

 

* * *

 

Pam’s taxi pulls up at the office 20 minutes later.  She rushes up the stairs and bursts into the Annex, only to have her heart melt at the sight of her husband sleeping with a hoagie/fake baby on his chest.  It’s a little weird but the image is far too similar to Jim sleeping with their actual baby on his chest.  She can just imagine the tiny hands and feet.

 

Jim follows his wife like a puppy, only bumping into one desk on the way there, and then Pam winds her arm around his.  “Bye, everyone,” she calls over her shoulder.  The door shuts.

 

Andy lets out a long sigh.  “That was _really_ weird let’s never repeat it ever again!”

 

There’s a low murmur of agreement, and then everything goes back to normal.


End file.
